


A Wizard's Adventure In Muggle Vandalism

by dildowizard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Basically This Fic Is A Fucking Joke, Breaking and Entering, Inspired By Kill Your Darlings, Libraries, M/M, Muggles, One Shot, Police, Vandalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7244215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dildowizard/pseuds/dildowizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco, Harry, Ron and Blaise break into Muggle libraries on the weekends. Most of the time, they don't get caught, but sometimes things go wrong, and that's how life is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wizard's Adventure In Muggle Vandalism

**Author's Note:**

> WOW okay so basically I have no idea what this is and I barely remember writing it, but I watched Kill Your Darlings last summer and I'm pretty sure that's what inspired the whole thing lmao. This one shot is just a bit of fun, Carlington is a fictional place (I think?) and I chose Derbyshire as a setting purely because it's the first British place I could think of. All of the things said about Derbyshire in this fic are made up. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll probably regret posting this later but I'm feeling a bit sad right now and I've been missing Drarry ever since I stopped writing DMATQTMPH, so this is just me drowning myself in my emotions and, uh yeah, I hope you enjoy this one shot. Yay.

On the chilly Sunday night of November the 15th 2006, at exactly 11:34pm, four men are stood around outside the local Muggle library in Carlington Town Centre, Derbyshire, dressed from head to toe in various shades of black and dark grey.

The town is silent, no cars are lingering on the street at this time and most people are either tucked away in their living rooms watching "I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here", or they're out Merlin-knows-where in central Derby, smoking weed in the bathroom of some dodgy pub that you wouldn't generally find in Carlington at all. So, no, it's not unusual for the place to be so quiet at this time, not unusual at all, which, one must admit, is fairly convenient for the four men dressed in black, considering their plans.

One of the four men is Draco Malfoy. He's positioned at the left side of the building, back pressed flat against the stone wall of the library, body almost entirely covered by the ivy that sprouts from a crack between two slabs of stone. His toes are cold, he's tired and he really wishes he'd brought his gloves along, but a strange excited feeling sets inside his stomach and he finds himself helplessly looking forward to the events that are sure to follow.

To his right is Harry Potter, who stands in the shadows of a tall archway which looks like it might have once been a door, his body barely visible and barely noticeable to anyone who doesn't know he's there. Draco glances his boyfriend and nods, smiling what he hopes resembles an at least vaguely encouraging smile. A few seconds pass before Harry responds, and when he does, all Draco sees is the outline of his head shifting in an answering nod. Draco turns back around.

A small gap in the ivy allows him to see the man on his left, Blaise Zabini, who... isn't really hidden at all, but honestly, with how quiet the street is, Draco doesn't really think of it as much of a risk.

Blaise leans forwards and pokes his head around the corner, presumably trying to catch sight of Ron Weasley, who had been sent forward with the replica of the library key (which Blaise had to sleep with the librarian twice to make, snagging it whilst she was sleeping in her bed the next morning, finding that she had stupidly left the keys in the pocket of her jeans) to unlock the door a few minutes ago. Draco watches the tense shoulders of Blaise's relax visibly in front of him before the man turns back and gestures with his hand that they should move in. Draco turns to repeat the gesture to Harry, who emerges from the shadows and nods.

The three of them edge around the corner of the building and make their way towards where the arched entrance juts out of the front stone wall, where Ron waits for them, holding the door open. They enter, filing in silently.

Once they're in, they all crowd together in the entrance, hesitating. It's not like they haven't done this kind of thing before, it's just that they always hesitate at this point, no matter how confident they are. This is the point where they're far enough to continue successfully, but a strange sense of guilt settles among them. They never back down, though, they probably never will. I mean, they're Slytherins and Gryffindors, what do you expect?

But then Ron holds out his hand and, for a second, he stands there staring expectantly at Blaise. Another few seconds pass and Ron raises his eyebrows. Then Blaise's eyes widen in realisation and he spits his gum into his own hand, passing it to Ron, who looks vaguely disgusted for moment, before he closes the door, using the gum as a doorstop anyway.

Draco looks at Harry, who looks back at him and smiles. Then, he turns back around and leads the way into the main library hall. Draco notices the lack of light and windows immediately and pulls a Muggle flashlight out of his pocket, turning it on. 

Several towering bookcases rise all the way from the floor to the ceiling, lined with book after book, title after title, all of them battered and torn, looking as if they'd definitely seen better days. The age of the books is most certainly the cause of the putrid smell of the place, Draco thinks, his nose wrinkling as he inhales air that's thick with so much dust and filth that he hears Harry stifle a cough beside him. 

Bookcase after bookcase line up from the left wall to the right wall, forming thin isles between them, but the back wall, visible through a small gap in the bookcases, is completely bare. He turns to Blaise and Ron with a grin. "Back wall?" He mouths. "You take left, we take right."

Blaise nods, unable to keep the smile off of his face as he reaches into his satchel and pulls out four cans of spray-paint, two red and two green, distributing them accordingly. No matter what anyone says, after they left Hogwarts, none of the house segregations really fell much beyond a few odd friendships like theirs. They still shamelessly wear their colours and Draco doesn't think they'll ever stop.

Draco moves soundlessly down the middle isle towards the back wall, setting down his Muggle flashlight on the closest bookshelf, angling it to light up the wall in front of them. They disperse, separating so that Blaise and Ron can move to the left side of the wall and Harry and Draco to the right. 

Harry shakes his can, sizing up the blank white wall he has as a canvas in front of him. Draco thinks he looks almost thoughtful, as though he's thinking about what they're going to paint, even though they both know quite well that it's going to be the same as every time, no matter how childish the idea is. As Harry bites his lip in concentration, Draco makes himself look away before he starts thinking other things about those lips. He blinks at the wall, confused, silently asking it if it can tell Harry to stop being hot because now really is not the time for Draco to be sporting a raging hard-on.

Then Ron uses his fingernail to tap twice on the wall to signal to them to get ready to start. The sound echoes, bouncing off of the hollow walls and spiralling between the bookshelves. Draco shakes his can of green paint, mentally readying himself. 

Another tap from Ron and then they're off, making art like they've done it dozens of times before (they have). The four men start painting at once, cans shaking and spluttering to life, creating sharp bursts of colour against the pale white wall.

The only sound in the room is the soft sound of spraying, the almost snake-like hissing off the cans. As they paint, Draco and Harry move fluently with each other, almost like life-long dance partners, even though neither of them can dance all that well. Beside them, Blaise and Ron move similarly, but not quite as smoothly, like they're not quite sure if they're meant to be clumsy Autumn-time wasps or elegant butterfly-like partners. Honestly, the graceful and regal atmosphere doesn't actually matter if they get the painting done without incident. 

Slashes of green paint curve elegantly down the wall, shaped like lost killing curses amongst pools of harsh blood red, an angry contrast against the light green paint and clear white of the wall. Colour explodes on the wall like it's been gently assaulted by a confetti canon.

Of course, the way I'm describing it is ridiculously dramatic, I'm making it sound picturesque, like the image they're creating is an exhilarant sunset above fields and fields of luscious green grass. No. They normally just end up with an abundance of red and green dicks painted carelessly onto a wall like a twelve year old would doodle in their math book.

Draco is really deep into the zone when, out of absolutely nowhere, for the first time since they'd taken up this weird hobby of vandalising Muggle property, a shrill alarm sounds suddenly, lights flashing and bathing them in orange light. The wall isn't quite finished, but all four of them stop painting at once, frozen, as if they'd completely forgotten their escape plan for this situation. They'd never had to use it before, is the thing, which meant that they had slipped into ignorance and allowed themselves to feel comfortable, let themselves become lazy.

Ron snaps out of the frozen haze first when the door slams open, and he lurches forwards to grab Blaise's arm, shoving him under an old oak table, taking refuge himself under another. He waves at Draco and Harry frantically, trying to tell them to do the same. Harry blinks, dives to the floor and flattens himself against the side of a small cabinet. Draco, startled, has to shake himself mentally before he takes action, slamming his fist down on his Muggle flashlight to turn it off and then ducking behind the cloak stand in the corner of the room, tucking himself beside the tall display case of the more valuable books.

"Come on, I know you're in here!" a male voice calls, their footsteps heavy against the rough purple carpet. Draco peaks around the display cabinet and sees that they're waving a huge flashlight around, but he can't quite see Blaise or Ron or Harry, can't quite see if they're ok.

Then the volume of the person's steps rises, and Draco moves back, folds himself as tightly into a ball as he can in the corner of the room. It sounds like the person is walking down an isle of bookcases which is way too near to where Draco is hidden for comfort. He holds his breath as the sound of their steps becomes louder and closer. His heart jumps wildly in his chest and his head starts to spin but then the footsteps quieten as the person walks down towards the other end of the library. He almost dies with relief.

Once the footsteps sound far enough away for Draco to be sure that it's at least a tiny bit safe, he hears Ron, Blaise and Harry scramble to leave. Harry runs as quietly as possible to Draco's corner and pulls him out from behind the cloak stand, indicating for Draco to follow him towards the exit. Harry jogs a few steps ahead as he always does whenever the walk together, his pace quick and sure. Blaise and Ron have already left, it seems, and Draco and Harry are just so close, so damn close to being free too when-

A hand seizes hold of Draco's forearm and he yelps as he's dragged back into the grip of someone who he can now see is a Muggle police officer. Draco's arms are pulled behind his back and his wrists are held together by the officer's meaty, rough hands. He panics, as anyone would if they were almost definitely about to be arrested, and the moment he feels a handcuff slip over one of his thin wrists, he jumps into action. "Harry!" He yells desperately, struggling in the police officer's grasp, trying to make it harder for the Muggle to snap the handcuffs shut. "Harry!"

Harry turns, eyes flashing as he raises his hand and Draco sees him murmur what is presumably a wandless _Lumos Maximus_ because then the entire library is flooded with white light, momentarily blinding Draco - and apparently the police officer, too, because his hands loosen around Draco's wrists and a burst of courage allows Draco to break free and sprint forwards towards Harry, who cancels the _Lumos_ and turns to sprint out of the library, Draco at his side.

They burst through the wooden doors of the library and take off down the street, turning blocks, taking random directions and silently wishing they'd brought their wands so that they could Apparate now and be done with it. Draco realises once they'd been running for over five minutes that Harry had been holding his wrist since they'd left the library, his grip still frighteningly tight. Out of breath, Draco slows his pace to a jog, Harry slowing with him until they inevitably reach a stop. They both glance behind them to make sure they'd lost the police officer at some point, and it seems that they have. 

And then Draco turns to Harry and they stare at each other for a minute, until Draco starts to laugh, almost hysterically, though he doesn't quite know why. Harry's grip on his wrist tightens and he stares at the blond incredulously.

"Draco." Harry says, carefully. "Why the fuck are you laughing?"

"We almost got caught drawing giant green and red dicks on the wall of a Muggle library by a Muggle police officer." He squeezes out between bursts of laughter, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. "You've got to admit, it's kind of funny."

The corners of Harry's lips quirk against his will and soon he's laughing lightly along with his boyfriend, standing in the street of a Muggle neighbourhood at almost midnight on a Sunday, still grasping his wrist as if afraid to let go.

"Harry?" Draco asks once their laugher has died down. "Why are you still holding my wrist like that?"

Harry frowns down at their joined skin, long pale fingers wrapped around an even paler bony wrist, as if he'd forgotten he was even holding it. He releases him immediately. "You were almost taken away from me." He says softly. "By a Muggle police officer. I thought I'd really lose you this time."

Draco smiles, leaning up to wrap his arms around Harry's neck, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Don't worry, I would've hexed him into next Tuesday and _Obliviated_ him wandlessly if he tried to take me away from you for good."

Harry closes his eyes. "I'm glad you're safe." He whispers. Then, he says, "I think I might love you a bit." lightly, almost jokingly, as he slides his arms around Draco's waist and presses their foreheads together.

Draco laughs. "Right back at you."

Then, he kisses Harry again, in a strange place that they're not familiar with, on a cold winter night, and suddenly, Draco pulls away, laughing again. Harry opens his eyes, looking at his boyfriend questioningly.

"Plus, we know our sex life won't ever be boring now that we have these." He grins cheekily, holding up the arm which somehow still has one not-quite-closed handcuff hanging loosely from its wrist.

"You're terrible." Harry scolds him, jokingly, shaking his head and laughing to himself with a fond smile.

They stay like that for a few more minutes, hugging each other loosely, before Draco says "Ok, so, seriously, how are we going to get home? Ron and Blaise have the port key and we left our wands at home in case we were actually arrested by the Muggle police."

Harry thinks for a moment. "Knight bus?"

Draco groans. "I guess we have no choice."

And so, they go home, having acquired a new set of handcuffs and a new adventure in vandalism to add to their list.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: slaymemakoto


End file.
